Tyson's working it with Max!
by Merely Corroborative Detail
Summary: Tyson needs to get very fit very fast... But with Max around his workout might turn to make-out; and the two boys might start finding new and creative ways to burn calories. warning: YAOI, smutt, corny intro. Also, guest appearance; you find out whence


"Fifty thousand yen?!"

Tyson couldn't believe his ears.  
"Well, more or less…" said one of the businessmen.

"Minus taxes, banking fees, copyright for use of the BBA title…" said the other.

"But you're still getting most of the money… do we have a deal."

"Oh, you'd got a deal alright!" said Tyson. And he really meant it. You'll see: the situation was like this:

Barely ten minutes before the above dialogue, Tyson Granger had just woken up, and was slacking off on the futon, watching television and generally cooling out; he didn't have any training that day. His grandfather was missing, so he had no intention of doing anything.

In fact, he was still in his night clothes when two very polite men in business suits came to his door asking for him. One of them was a tall blonde with an aloof but sympathetic demeanour; the other was a mysterious bespectacled young man with black hair. They bowed very courteously, and after they'd more or less invited themselves in -though they were so well-spoken about it that they made it seem as if they were really doing Tyson a favour by avoiding him the trouble of having to invite them- they sat down at his table, and exposed to him the reason of their visit as follows:

"Mister Granger" said one of them "We want to use your image in an advertising campaign for our company"

"You will, of course be grossly rewarded" said the other:

"Do fifty thousand yen seem alright?"

And that is how we arrived to the point where the story started. Now Tyson of course was overjoyed, if not with the money then at the very least and by all means with the publicity; but even if they'd been the ones to propose the deal, the two businessmen didn't seem very hasty to close the discussion once Tyson accepted; on the contrary, one of them, the blonde one to be specific said:

"There is, however, a problem Mr. Granger"

"Problem?" said Tyson perplexed "What problem?"

"Well" said the blonde "It's very simple; that is it's rather difficult… In point of fact…"

"The pictures we want to take are nude" interrupted his more down-to-earth black-haired counterpart. He had glasses and black hair; he had to be the down to earth one.

"Nude?"

"Clothing impaired, if you prefer…" said the well-spoken blonde.

It seemed as if they were expecting him to be shocked; but Tyson just blinked:

"You mean they're going to see my…"

"No."

"By no means!"

"We'll cover that up somehow"

"Then… what's the problem?"

"You will be completely naked, except for the product during the shoot"

Tyson blinked again; as we all know, he wasn't precisely famous for his wit and intellectual brilliance.

"So?" he finally said "That's not so bad… In fact, I was thinking it's about time I gave those fan-girls some eye-candy… that Kai's been hogging up all the attention since…"

He didn't get to finish the sentence; he was interrupted by the man in the glasses:

"Mr. Granger" said the man in a stern voice "That isn't the problem."

"Oh…" said Tyson "Then what is it?"

"Well" said the blonde "We need you to loose half pound of body weight until the photo session…"

The blow had been struck.

"What?" exclaimed Tyson.

This seemed to be the thing that finally struck the Champion. The blonde businessman was afraid they'd hurt his feeling; but the one with the glasses was imperturbable:

"What you heard, Mr. Granger" he said "Our specialists say that in order for us to take a good picture you'll need to loose half a pound of body weight… And preferably buff up your muscles too."

"Oh…" said Tyson "I see…"

There was a brief pause:

"Don't take it personally" blurted out the blonde "It's not that you're fat or anything -I mean, if you were, we'd be asking for you to loose more than a pound-. It's just for…technical reasons."

"No, no" said Tyson "I understand..."

"So it's settled?"

"Yes."

"When's the shoot?"

"Tomorrow morning… here is my company's calling card."

***

"… and that" concluded Tyson, nearing his hundredth push-up "Is why we're here training"

"Oh" said Max "I get it"

The time was twelve thirty-four. The two boys, that is to say Max Tate and Tyson Granger, were at the gym, and Tyson had just explained to Max precisely why he was training on this particular day, and with this particular tenacity. Immediately after the businessmen left, he'd rushed to the gym. He'd called Max and left a note for his grandfather. He was very excited about this. In fact, he'd even rented the gym for the whole day from its very perplexed owner, who seemed very suspicious at the idea of only getting paid when Tyson got his money for the photographs. Max was there mostly for psychological support. If he couldn't eat sugar, Tyson would at least be with someone who seemed to be perpetually high on it.

"So" he huffed "How many calories are we at?"

"Let's see" said Max consulting a notepad wherein he kept note "Two hundred and eighty-six from the treadmill, and three hundred and seventeen from the bicycle; that makes… Eh… Six hundred and three, I think."

"And how many do we need in total?" said Tyson, a drop of sweat rolling down his forehead and falling onto the ground.

"Seventeen hundred"

"Oh God, just smite me now…" exclaimed Tyson; and he let himself to the ground. Seventeen hundred? And he was only at six hundred. That left him, like… a lot more calories than he could count to!

"Well" said Max "It's probably over six hundred and twenty if you count the sit-ups"

"Give me my towel, Max" said Tyson "I don't know how we're going to carry this on, my feet are already on fire from all the rowing."

Max obeyed:

"Maybe you should do some rowing" he suggested "That works only the upper part of the body, and burns almost as much as the other exercises"

"Yeah" said Tyson "Good idea; help me up, will you Max?"

"Sure thing!"

And the jolly blonde gave Tyson his hand, and pulled him up. They went over to the bizarre gymnasium contraption that simulates rowing. Tyson was soaked:

"You know" he said, sitting down "It's a good thing I have you for moral support, or I'd probably have fallen asleep on the ground when doing the push ups…"

"Don't mention it."

"Nah, seriously, Max; you're a good friend"

"You get that from the push ups?"

Max smiled at him.

***

It was one and nineteen minute; Tyson had by now finished the rowing and was doing sit-ups. Max was standing over him, counting and cheering him on:

"One hundred and ninety-one… one hundred and ninety two ninety-two… Come on, Tyson, you can do it!"

The blue-haired boy was in a rush of adrenalin, going up and down with sonorous breaths, so taken up in his training he didn't feel a thing; and he should have been feeling, because he was really into it.

"Argh!" finally he cried out in a triumphant, animal shout.

"Two hundred!" declared Max.

"Who's the man?" roared Tyson, cheering himself with his hands raised like a boxing champion "Who's the man?"

"You're the man!"

"Who?"

"You!"

"That's right!" said Tyson "I'm the man!" and with an immense smile on his face, he let himself fall on his back, his hands under his head.

"You okay?" said Max.

"Never been better" gasped Tyson, breathing heavily, his chest going up and down very fast "What's my count?"

"Nine hundred and seventy-four" said Max, looking at the pad "Though I think the counter on the rowing machine was kind of deficient"

"That's okay" said Tyson, still panting "We're over halfway there; what's our next exercise?"

"Well" said Max "You can lift weights…"

"Lift weights?" said Tyson springing to his feet "That sounds like something I could do right now; my arms are fresh again, after those sit-ups… Just let me take of my shirt; I'm sorry, Max, but I'm boiling in my own sweat over here!"

And without much consideration, Tyson took off his shirt, and threw it aside; now the only things he was wearing were his shoes, his pants and his trusty cap; and, if it counted, the gym towel. Max was very impressed.

For even though our blonde little Blade Breaker wasn't at all the kind of person who's eye usually fell on this kind of thing, as the sticky from sweat cloth of the shirt uncovered Tyson's upper body, Max saw that that was the very best worked out torso he'd ever seen; the fact that it was all wet and shiny as if greased didn't help much either.

"You know" blurted out the blonde "I… I don't know why they're making you do this"

"What?" said Tyson, looking at him puzzled.

"Well…" said Max "I… I think you're more than fit enough as it is; you look very good."

"Meh…" said Tyson "I've always thought I was more than fit enough as it is; but they're paying, so it's their call… Still, I'm glad at least two people agree I'm the hottest thing alive."

But as soon as Max said that he found Tyson good-looking, he regretted it, and clumsily tried to change the subject.

"So" he said as they went towards the weights "Where's the rest of the team?"

"The rest of the team?" said Tyson, turning to him; he really was hot that way, shirtless with a gym towel around his neck "How should I know? They're on their own vacation now. I think Ray's in his village, and I have no clue where Kai is. The only one I know for sure is in town is Kenny.

"Kenny, huh?" said Max "Why didn't you bring him?"

"Eh…" said Tyson "He'd probably be to busy; besides, he'd drive me crazy… And I don't know if I'd be exactly comfortable having him see me like this…"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that if it was anyone but you telling me that I was more than fit enough for something and that I look really good, I might take it the wrong way."

And maybe he should have taken it the wrong way; at any rate, Max was certainly very concentrated on the contractions and flexions of his muscles.

***

It was three o'clock; Tyson was lifting weights, again. More specifically, he'd lifted some weights, gone back over to the treadmill, pulled, pushed and heaved at a vast array of gym machines, and finally returned to the weights. As for Max, one would have thought he should by now have gotten bored of standing by Tyson's side.

"You good, Tyson?"

"Fine…" grunted Tyson, as he pushed up very heavy weight "Just fine; how many calories are we at?"

"How many sets of push ups did you do?"

"Three"

"And sit ups?"

"Four"

"And that last thing you were on, it was the treadmill, right?"

"Yes!" said Tyson, in a very loud and aggressive tone; it wasn't really that Max had done anything, but he was in a sort of situation were any voice was incredibly irritating.

"One thousand three hundred and eleven, then…" declared the blonde boy.

"Oh…" grumbled Tyson "Thanks…"

"You sure you're not tired?" said Max, completely ignoring Tyson's tone "I would probably have fainted by now if I were you!"

"Well" yelled Tyson "There's a reason I'm team captain"

Tyson was extremely irate: What the hell was wrong with Max? Could he not just shut up for a few minutes? Was it so incredibly difficult for him to stay silent for even the shortest amount of time? Why had he even brought him here?

…

Oh, who was he kidding? Tyson couldn't stay mad at Max for over a few seconds!

"Hey" he said, putting down the weights for a second "I'm sorry"

But Max didn't seem in the least bit offended; instead, he just smiled, and said in his ever-merry tone:

"It's okay… I'd probably be in the same mood if I was in your place.

Dear God, was it even possible to be that nice? Tyson closed his eyes to recover himself a bit; then, he started having weird thoughts… really weird thoughts. Then, suddenly, he felt something on his chest:

"Max!" he cried "What are you doing?"

"M… me?" said Max, taken aback "I was just drying some sweat off"

It was true: he'd been rubbing Tyson's chest with the towel; and Tyson's chest had been very sweaty.

"Oh" said the latter "In that case…"

"Yeah…"

They gazed into each other's eyes, and blushed. Max didn't move his hand from Tyson's chest; Tyson didn't make him. It was as if there was a spell paralyzing them; a sweet, enchanting, amorous spell that made time stop.

But the spell broke. And then Tyson very anxiously got back to lifting weights, and Max very anxiously got back to not drying Tyson's chest.

It was about time too they distanced themselves too, thought Tyson, because he didn't want Max noticing he'd gotten hard!

***

"Okay, that's it! I can't do this anymore!"

This time the time was four twenty-six PM. Tyson was at one thousand three hundred and fifty-six calories, and again doing sit-ups. But despite all his good will and the fact that he was well over halfway through his calorie count, he couldn't get himself to move another inch, and he let himself fall down. His sweat had him more soaked than if he'd taken a bath, the few clothes he'd left on were glued to his body, and his every single muscle was so sore it almost hurt just to bat his eyelids; heck, when he did the sit-ups, it felt as if someone was sawing him in half. Not to mention that, between the adrenalin, Max's attentions and, well, his sheer size –it was something he was proud of even in times like this- he'd gotten to a point of sexual arousal where his underwear felt ten sizes to small.

Max leaned over him:

"What is it Tyson?"

"You heard me, Max" said Tyson, panting "I can't go on… I'm calling off the deal!"

The blonde couldn't believe what he was hearing; if anything, he acted more anxious about the situation than even Tyson. The Champion really just lay on the ground, with a face as if he were completely phased out and only moving one part of his body: his chest, to breathe; and he was at such a point of exhaustion that even that almost hurt:

"No!" exclaimed Max "No! You can't give up now! You're almost there!"  
"Almost there?" said Tyson "Since when does at least two hours of treadmill qualify as almost?"

Max was in disarray.

"Come on…" he said "That's not that much!"

"Are you kidding?" said Tyson "I'll be lucky if I ever manage to do more than two minutes on that thing!"

"Well… that's okay" said Max "You… you don't have to do the treadmill… you can do something else!"

"Like what?" said Tyson, only just managing to turn his head towards the blonde boy.

"Eh…" said Max "I don't know… We might do something together."

"Together?"

"Yeah, together! Like… um… wrestle!

"Wrestle?"

"Yeah, wrestle; come on! It'll be fun! One on one, me and you; you'll be up to seventeen hundred in no time!"

"Max, I don't think I'm in the mood…"  
"To late!"

"No!"

"Get me off if you can!"

And with that, Max, already back to his normal cheery self for having solved the problem, tackled Tyson; well, it wasn't to much a tackle as getting over him on all fours and pinning him to the ground, but he was still quite sure it would do the trick

"Aw" he whined seeing it didn't work immediately "You're not even moving!"

"I can't, Max." groaned Tyson.

"Yes you can!" said Max.

"No I can't…"

"Yes you can!"

"No I can't…"

"Yes you can! I said you can, now do it!"

"Okay" said Tyson "But you'll be the one who asked for it!"

Then he grinned; and, ladies and gentlemen, Tyson Granger was back in business! Catching hold of Max's two arms and giving a tremendous triumphant shout, he rolled the blonde boy off of him and placed himself victoriously on top:

"Yeah!"

"That's the spirit" said Max, happy that this was going so well.

But his good humour didn't mean he was giving up so easily; with his legs he tried to unbalance Tyson, and was successfully if not in bringing himself on top at least in bringing his opponent on the ground. Then began a merry if furious battle between the two boys: hands tugged, legs kicked, teeth bit, nails clawed and limbs showed up protruding from the fight of grappling in places where they didn't seem to have any anatomical business. In short, Max and Tyson were wrestling wildly, and having the time of their lives. Master Granger had recovered his strength, or at least the spirit to act as such, and proved a very worth opponent to a fresh and ready Master Tate.

Both boys were as we said enjoying the fight very much; perhaps even a bit too much, beyond the appropriate amount of fun two boys should have with their bodies so sweaty and so close, and their hands so shameless grabbing each other. However, as they were at the climax of the combat something happened that made them stop. Tyson and Max froze; and this time it was not at all enchanting.

"Tyson" said Max "What's that thing between your legs?"

And it was a very legitimate question. For Tyson had been pinning Max to the ground; and when Max reached to pull Tyson off by the only piece of clothing he still had on, his pants –of course technically it was not the only article, but it is very difficult to pull someone down by their baseball cap- he accidentally touched the poster boy's virile member. And said member was in such a state that it felt more like bone than flesh.

At first Tyson tried to act as if nothing was going on:

"W… what?" he asked.

"You're hard, Tyson" said Max.

"What?" muttered Tyson "Oh, uh, that… Yeah… that's… the work out… and the testosterone… and… you know…"

Max looked up at him; he was still pinned under him, by the way. Then he looked to the side, and blushed. He looked almost feminine; so cute…

"Oh" he whispered "Right… because I thought…"

Then Tyson couldn't hold himself. The sight of Max, helpless, timid, blushing, sexy under him was just too much. Upon hearing those words, his inner beast took hold of him; and, holding Max's head firmly between his hands, his mouth trying to justify what the rest of his body was about to do, he said to Max:

"If you don't like it, I'll say I was joking."

But he didn't give the blonde time to answer. Immediately after he'd finished the sentence, Tyson kissed Max. Not a friendly little mooch on the cheek; not lovey-dovey peck on the lips: a full blown, fierce, slobbering passionate animal French kiss, mouth in mouth, soul in soul. Fiercely, he thrust his tongue inside Max's mouth; then, for a moment, terrified, he awaited the answer.

And Max kissed him back!

Hallelujah! Max was kissing him! Tyson couldn't believe it! Yes! Yes, yes, yes! He'd finally let his feelings loose, finally dared to try and make his fantasies true: and it worked! Max had kissed him back! Who was the winner? Who was the man? At last, all his hard training and working out was paying back: and what a hell of a prize it was.

But it didn't stop there; when they finally parted their lips Tyson, wearing the most dreamily blissful and lovingly idiotic smile a boy could have –of course this is a poetic exaggeration, but for the blissful and idiotic parts he was certainly in the top ten- asked his beloved:

"Do you like where this is going?"

"Oh Tyson" said Max, blushing "Yes… yes, I do"

"Then take your shirt off for me."

"Oh, Tyson…"

"Don't be afraid; you're safe with me."

And Max timidly obeyed, taking off his shirt. Despite his childish air, he too had quite the build under the shirt -you don't become a Beyblader by sitting around on the couch all day-. Then, almost innocently, almost in a way too lovely to be true, HE asked:

"Do you… Do you like it?"

"Oh, Max" said Tyson "I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world."

And once again he kissed him; but this time, the action wasn't only at the mouth. One of Tyson's hands began caressing Max's torso, while the other was already going down into his pants. Man, Tyson thought, that behind was even better sculpted than his.

But the Tyson saw that from now on he wasn't the only one taking the initiative. After taking off his shirt, Max had gotten quite a lot of courage. And, without even parting their lips, his hands went down, over Tyson's burly biceps, rock hard abs and many more marvellously made muscle groups, all the way to his pants. Then, with one move, Max pulled them off along with the underwear. And with that, something of Tyson's that had been, imprisoned, desiring and wanting for the last four hours finally sprung free:

"Oh my God, yes!" cried out Tyson, already tingling in ecstasy.

"Heck, that's huge!" exclaimed Max, staring in utter awe at Tyson's magnificent nude.

"Well" said Tyson with a silly grin "You asked for it!"

"I regret nothing" said Max, as he begun to unbuckle his own pants, without for one moment getting out from under Tyson. Then they started to fondle again, with redoubled the previous passion, and Tyson did some things to Max which are better left out of the story; for rating's sake.

***

"Wow!" panted Tyson "What just happened?"

"Oh, nothing" said Max, laying on his chest "Just the most fun workout in the history of workouts… Also, your lost calorie count is up to two thousand and seventy.

The two boys were lying on the ground, exhausted and gasping for breath from the insanely wild ride they'd just given each other; but Tyson was not at all happy with himself. He was getting the kind of downhearted ideas men are wont to get after they reach climax. Right now, they took more or less this form:

He was Tyson Granger! He was a boy! He didn't like Max! He couldn't like Max! He was the world champion of Beyblading, and he had an image to maintain… Damn it, what would the fangirls say? He had to stop.

"Max" he declared in a solemn voice "Let's never talk about this again."

"What?" said Max, perplexed.

"I don't think anyone should learn about this… ever" said Tyson.

Max blinked at him, and looked down, heartbroken.

"Oh" he said "I understand"

Then there was a long pause of despair for about three seconds:

"You want to go shower together?" said Tyson

Again there was a brief pause; so much for staunch rejection of an immoral way of life.

"Oh yeah!"

"We don't have any soap, though…"

"Then I'll have to rub you extra hard"

Thankfully, conscience clears up very fast when its reactions are due merely to a drop in the supply of erogenous chemicals.

***

Max was at the twelfth floor of a very tall office building; he'd been told by Tyson where the address for his photo shoot was. After dealing with a very unsympathetic receptionist and asking around in the hallways for an insanely long time, he'd finally found the place where he thought the photography session was taking place. And now he was waiting outside the door. There was a security guard; after a few minutes, Max finally ventured to ask:

"Is this where…"

"Tyson Granger?" said the guard "Yeah, he's in there… how did you know find him?"

"Oh… I'm a friend of his" said Max.

"I see" said the guard.

"Can I…" started Max.

"Not yet" said the guard "They'll be out any minute though; you can probably wait around till then."

"Oh" said Max "Okay…"

And wait around he did. Of course "any minute now" turned out to be "in a bit less than half an hour" but sure enough, eventually a photographer came out of the guarded room, followed shortly thereafter by two technicians, one carrying what seemed to be the lighting system, and another a red and white swirly psychedelic cardboard background. And then, after politely asking, Max went in. And sure enough, inside the photography room, which had no windows and only one chair for furniture, he found Tyson:

"Hey!" said the star when he saw his friend come in "I was hoping you're come!"

Tyson was completely naked, save for a pair of boxer shorts he'd just put on. He was sitting on the only chair there was in the room; his clothes were thrown on the ground; Max wasn't sure if it was just him or not, but to him his teammate was noticeably more buff than a few days before.

"What did they have you advertise?" he asked finally.

"Meh…" said Tyson "Some new packaging for a brand of diet cola. I've got the bottle over hear, and I drank it all after the session was over."

The bottle was very sizeable, at least of one litre; Tyson continued:

"The slogan was 'bigger is better'. They had me lay down naked and cover my parts with it. The only problem was when they saw that the bottle was only barely big enough to cover me."

"Tell me about it…" said Max.

Tyson grinned.

"So" continued the blonde "Then you've got all that Cola running in your veins now?"

"Yup" said Tyson "And I've got a lot of energy"

"Oh" said Max "I see"

Then Tyson took a sly air:

"You know…" he said "I could do something with all of that energy…"

Max looked him in the eye, flabbergasted:

"What?" he said "Here? Now"

"Oh come on" said Tyson "Just a quickie… I'm already naked, and it's not like there's anybody looking… Besides, you know you're so sweet I can't get enough of you"

"You got that from the Cola bottle, didn't you?"

"So what if I did?" said Tyson closing onto Max, and putting his hand onto his shoulder "It's true."

And they locked the door behind them, and did more things that can't be explained herein to keep the rating at T:

***

Less than half an hour later, Tyson and Max were fully dressed, and in one of the building's secretaries' offices waiting for Tyson's pay check. Then, completely coincidentally –though if you think about it, it was really not all that improbable-, as the amiable secretary looked through her papers for the check, in came the two young businessmen that had offered Tyson the job in the first place. Tyson saluted them effusively, and they responded courteously; but just as they were about to leave, the one with the black hair and glasses' eyes fell on Max. The blonde boy introduced himself; and the tall businessman said to him:

"Master Tate… would you be interested in serving as a poster-boy for Ootori corporation's new brand of low-cholesterol cereal?"


End file.
